Justice for Nancy: She Found her way Home.

Nancy Beverly: February 16, 1934 – January 18, 2016

I’ve written, and re-written this post five different times. There is so much to be said about my grandma Nancy Beverly, that the first blog post was nearly two pages long! Justice for Nancy was “born” due to her brutal, life-ending attack, but now it will continue to spread her name, her story, and her extremely extraordinary giving spirit.

Most of us feel the same, in that she died when she was attacked. Her mental state never truly recovered, and her physical state deteriorated slowly, painfully, and was so drawn out. Although yesterday we lost her physical body, too. Now there’s this funny feeling in my heart… I’m so happy she’s at peace, and so angry that’s how her life had to end.

Not only did she pass on to bigger and better things, where she can be whole, run, and protest all those nudey busses she was seeing for a while… but now she’s not scared, nervous, or in fear of whispers. She’s where she dreamt of immediately after the attack. She saw angels for days in those first 72 hours. Angels who were past husbands, who were friends, Hugh Bob and Herbie, even my other grandma at one point. When she would tell me she saw them, I didn’t argue. I knew she saw them, too, and I knew then it was only a matter of time. She would cry at their beauty, and talk to them. I believed then, and I still do…. That that was part of her end.

This feeling in my heart has been there since she was attacked. It’s a permanently blackened circle. It’s filled with the words from that night, the images, the fear and intense feelings and emotions. It’s full of the want for revenge, only in the name of her justice. It’s full of the days in court, the stares, the crazy family, testifying on her behalf, watching the video over, and over again. But now I know she’s peaceful.

Right next to that blackened spot is a heart shaped spot that holds memories. These are some of the memories I’ve thought about in the past few days:

                *Mr. Beet.* ”I think you should name her Nancy Lee!” *Meres-eat-oats* fishing. *cooking.* singing. *Durnells.* the boat. *The treehouse lunches.* getting in trouble for using the HAM radio…blue devil, here. *reporting in on Herbie’s secret smoking.* Calling the crazy stalker, and talking to her husband. *the front patio.* gardening. *don’s pond.* Hill’s. *ham salad.* the potpourri pot and the burns. *the storm shelter.* bologna. *love connection.* general hospital. *Rogers.* Mondays and Tuesdays. *Salvatoris.* my first kiss was behind her garage. * holidays. *birthdays.* Back 40. *Football discussions.* Green room. *Red Room.* If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie. *the tall tale of how grandma fell off of the stove, flipped the table, and rolled into the corner, told by Herbie.* Sleepovers. And so many more…

I’m so grateful to have these memories of her, with her, and about her. Even better is that my children were gifted those memories, too. I am who I am because of my grandmas, and my parents. Justice for Nancy will continue on, taking on charitable events, food drives, and the like for years to come. It’s just what my Grandma would want, and exactly what I can still do for her memory.

Love you, Grandma.

Show me the way to go home, I’m tired and I want to go to bed. I had a little drink about an hour ago and it’s gone right to my head. On land or sea or phone, wherever I may roam, you can always hear me singing a song.. show me the way to go home.

You’re home, sweet lady.